


“You have to show up.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [24]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 04:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15186872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“You have to show up.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes/gifts).



> A gift for ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “I would really like to read about a kiss where Cormoran just kisses Robin because he can't help himself...”

 

Strike rolled over blearily at the insistent sound of his alarm and glared at it. The sun seemed unnaturally bright as it slanted across his bed. It was early afternoon and he had managed approximately four hours of sleep after running surveillance all night. He wanted nothing more than to sink back into blissful oblivion, preferably until the following morning, and he seriously contemplated doing just that. But he had promised Ilsa he wouldn’t back out of yet another invitation.

“You mean it, Corm?” she had said the previous afternoon on the phone. “Because I’ve invited Robin this time and she won’t know anyone else, and Nick will be busy on the barbecue and I’ll be sorting drinks and so on. You have to show up.”

“I will,” he’d promised, and she’d almost sounded like she believed him.

He sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He looked at his clothes where he’d dropped them on the floor earlier, and reluctantly decided that he couldn’t just throw clothes back on that he’d worn for 24 hours. He was going to have to shower and find something clean to wear.

Tiredness rendered him slow and clumsy, his brain fogged with lack of sleep. Showered and changed, he drank two cups of strong coffee in an attempt to kickstart his weary mind and try to feel like socialising.

Ilsa would understand if he had to cancel, he knew. But he had promised, and Robin was going to be there... They spent so much time together in the office and on surveillance, but seeing her in a social setting was an intriguing prospect. And Ilsa was right, she wouldn’t know anyone else.

He made his way to the local supermarket to stock up on cigarettes and beer and finally arrived in Wandsworth only an hour or so after the barbecue had begun. Hardly even late for me, he thought ruefully as he rang the doorbell.

It was actually Robin who answered, having heard the bell on her way to the toilet in the hall. She opened the door and was delighted to see that it was him, giving him a beaming smile.

Strike almost took a step back at the sight of her. She looked stunning in a cotton sundress and strappy flat sandals, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her lipstick was pink and her cheeks slightly flushed from a couple of glasses of wine. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He should have thought this through, that she would be more casually dressed than he normally saw her, and that deep tiredness as always lent a raw edge to his emotions, rendering them sharper, jagged, harder to control. He realised he had paused slightly too long, and she was frowning now, concerned.

“Cormoran? Are you all right?” Just the sound of his name on her lips set tired nerves jangling. He shook his head a little to dispel the feeling.

“Fine,” he said, his voice a little rough. “Just knackered. Was up all night on that surveillance.”

She pulled a face of sympathy. “You must be shattered,” she said. “Let’s get you a beer and some food.” She grabbed his arm and led him through to the kitchen. He felt slightly giddy at her touch, trying not to think about the fact that only a thin, floaty layer of cotton covered her body. As soon as he could politely manage it, he escaped into the garden with a beer, greeted his hosts and then lit up a welcome cigarette.

Robin watched him from the kitchen where she was helping by preparing salads. He looked exhausted, unshaven, shadows under sunken eyes. He was working hard, she knew, and she tried to pull her weight but Strike wouldn’t let her work the overnight surveillance jobs even from the relative safety of the Land Rover. He always said he couldn’t just go home and sleep knowing she was out all night, and this surveillance didn’t need two of them. We need to work out a system so he can sleep more in the day while I man the office, she thought. Set up a kind of shift system. She ran the different possibilities through her head.

Strike had only meant to stay as long as was polite, but good beer and good food mellowed him a little, and being near Robin helped. She looked beautiful, floating around in her dress, and she was clearly glad to see him, not knowing anyone else. She stayed fairly close to him most of the afternoon, and he enjoyed her presence as she didn’t insist on filling every moment with chatter like some women. Often she was happy just to sit by him quietly. He felt less utterly wrung out for a couple of hours in her restful company. As the afternoon ended, families with children left and the party calmed down considerably.

As the barbecue cooled and the remaining adults chatted in the evening sun, Strike removed himself a little way to smoke. The fading light seemed to bring back his exhaustion, whispering to him that it was time to sleep again. Robin, sensing his tiredness, followed him, bringing him another beer, a soft smile on her face. She sat on the bench at the end of the garden and watched him, the shadows under his eyes blue-black in the fading evening light.

“It’s probably not the time to talk shop,” she said quietly, “but I’ve had some ideas of how we can move cases and appointments around so you can get better chunks of sleep. I’ll fill you in on Monday.”

Strike finished his cigarette and came and sat next to her, accepting the proffered beer gratefully. “I’d have been all right this weekend if I could have just slept all day today,” he said.

Robin glanced around. “The main party’s over,” she said. “You could go home to bed now,”

An urge to ask her to go with him floated through Strike’s tired brain. Pull yourself together, he thought. The reddish light from the sinking sun glinted on her gold hair, and the world seemed in soft focus in the fading light. Or was he just too spaced out now to see clearly? It seemed obvious to him suddenly that he and Robin belonged together. A fanciful notion brought on by exhaustion lowering his defences, no doubt. But he couldn’t stop looking at her, his normal reserve deserting him.

She was looking back at him, quiet, accepting his gaze. He was being drawn into her eyes somehow, felt as though he were falling towards her, powerless to stop himself. I’m going to kiss her, he realised dimly, and he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t seem to help it. Slowly he leaned towards her, and he saw in her eyes the moment she realised, her pupils dilating. Then his lips were on hers. He felt her smile against him, her hand creeping up to his face and around his neck. Her lips parted gently for him, inviting him to explore, and he pressed closer.

Engrossed in one another, Strike and Robin missed the slight yelp from Nick up on the patio as Ilsa elbowed him sharply and nodded, grinning delightedly, toward the kissing couple on the bench at the bottom of the garden.

Lost in the feel of Robin, the taste of her, Strike found himself actually swaying a little, punch-drunk with exhaustion. She giggled, held him steady, pulled back slightly. “God, you really are tired,” she said softly. “We need to get you home to bed.”

Strike grinned through the haze. “That sounds like an excellent idea,” he said.

She gave him a mock glare. “That’s a bit forward, seeing as you only just kissed me for the first time,” she said playfully.

He gave a rueful smile. “Believe me, it wasn’t an improper suggestion, sadly,” he said. “The only thing I’m good for tonight is sleep, preferably for about 12 hours.”

Robin smiled softly at him. “Maybe I’ll make you breakfast, then,” she said.

 

 

 


End file.
